The story deals with adult subject matter and occasional description of explicit sexual abuse. Not meant for underage readers. Read at your own peril. And oh, Twilight belongs to SM. This is just a fanfiction.

Beautiful Sorrow

End of chapter 27

She hungrily took in the beautiful face and smiled again at her imagination. Her imagination smiled back. She would have happily stayed rooted to the spot, ignoring the street crowd and curious passersby for all eternity, or until her mind failed to sustain the conjuring of such vivid apparitions. But the magic was shattered to a million pieces when she heard the reflection speak.

"We meet again, Isabella. I hope college is agreeing with you."


Chapter 28

Bella, age 18

The velvety, smooth voice that Bella remembered with crystal clarity jarred her back to reality. She turned around to face the man whom she was convinced to be a figment of her imagination just a moment ago. Her wide-eyed disbelief gave way to unadulterated joy by the sight that greeted her.

He was there.

He was really there.

She didn't know what would bring him to this part of the city in the middle of a workday, but she didn't dwell on the trivialities. She was too grateful for the serendipitous encounter, however accidental it might be, to question it.

The impossible had happened again. A rare second chance for her to behold the perfection that wasn't meant be a regular occurrence for her. How fortunate was she that he would even remember her, let alone stop by to initiate a conversation after running into her on the street? She desperately hoped she would make a better impression this time.

The possibility that he could have orchestrated this stage with weeks of careful planning was an outlandish thought that she wouldn't have believed even if someone had informed her so.

She quickly took stock of herself and made sure she wasn't gaping at the man like an imbecile. She was in her street clothes, looking as plain as she always did. She wished her employer didn't insist that she left behind her work clothes at the end of her shift each time. At least she wouldn't be looking so pedestrian now if she had her uniform on, minus the name tag of course.

Deciding to make the best of her limitations, Bella squared her shoulders and addressed the man with polite reverence.

"Good afternoon, sir. Yes, school's been great so far, thank you."

Carlisle Cullen, as impeccable as ever, smiled approvingly as he took a few steps closer to where Bella was standing. "I'm pleased to hear that, Isabella. It would have been a shame if a smart girl like you didn't follow through with your plans.

"So, what are you doing here so far from the campus?" he asked.

"Oh, I work here. I mean I work at a store nearby. I was on my way home and just stopped to... check something out." Bella suddenly felt shy to tell him about her work or her window shopping. They were just as unremarkable as she was and didn't merit being mentioned in his presence. She wistfully wished she had something interesting to report to Mr. Cullen that was worthy of his attention.

"I see. Where do you work? And what exactly is it that you do?" Carlisle asked with curiosity.

"Uh... I work at the perfume counter, over at Blossoms." Bella flushed and floundered, and lowered her gaze in shame. She felt insignificant in his presence even without having to confess to her common place occupation in a generic department store.

"You work with perfume? Ah, now I know why you smell so good then," Carlisle said with a hint of humor.

If Bella felt flustered earlier she was barely coherent now. She could feel her face go through a whole range of shades that rested on the red end of the spectrum.

Oh my God! He thinks I smell good? I must have heard it wrong!

"Relax, Isabella. I am only joking. Though I am being truthful too," Carlisle said with an amused smile. He had waited patiently for months to witness her flounder exactly like this. Her reactions didn't disappoint him. She was just as enchanting and innocent as he remembered, and her gaze still held the wonders of the world. He found it exhilarating.

It was worth the wait.

Bella wished she had the sophistication to demurely laugh along with Mr. Cullen and appear unaffected by his wit. But she wasn't sophisticated and didn't have a hope in the world to hide her embarrassment. Instead she clutched her backpack tightly in front of her and prayed for the earth to part so she could seek refuge within its sanctualy.

"I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. That was uncalled for. I assure you, Isabella, it was not my intention. I will leave you to your errand then. I wouldn't want to intrude on your plans." Carlisle suddenly wiped away all playfulness from his face as he motioned to step away from Bella, presumably to be on his way.

A slew of thoughts occurred to Bella all at once, and the resultant panic completely erased the sense of awkwardness she was experiencing a moment earlier.

He is leaving!

I will never see him again!

I didn't even get to thank him properly!

Why am I so stupid?

It's so unfair!

I have to do something!

But what?

"Please don't... I mean... you aren't intruding. I mean, you shouldn't apologize. It's my fault completely. I mean..." Bella blurted out without sorting her thoughts first, and when she heard her own disjointed plea it made her want to cry in frustration. She was not doing a stellar job at demonstrating that she was, in fact, capable of normal human speech.

Carlisle paused and silently observed Bella's struggle for words. She held an exquisite appeal. Unlike him, she didn't have a mental armor to protect herself from the world; she wore her heart on her sleeve. Of course he understood that the difference in their age and backgrounds was an important determinant, but still he couldn't imagine himself ever being so unguarded and open to the world even when he was her age. She was guileless and unjaded. And that's what made her so precious to him.

"I mean, I know you are busy and I wouldn't want to cause any hold up in your schedule, but please don't leave on my account." It took her a few moments, but Bella finally managed to line up a coherent enough sentence that she hoped sounded sufficiently intelligent to address the situation.

"Very well, Isabella. If you are sure," Carlisle conceded evenly. "I was hoping maybe you could fill me in on how your school is going. Unless of course you have plans for the evening."

Bella was of course once again flustered and speechless.

He wants to know about my school! I can't be hearing this right! How can he possibly want to know about me?

"Uhh... uh... I don't have plans," Bella stated, completely forgetting the promise she had made to Alice to go with her to a mixer that evening.

"Perfect. Then perhaps you wouldn't mind accompanying me to an early supper? You can tell me all about your classes while we eat. I'm quite famished, really," Carlisle proposed smoothly that left little room for objection.

"Supper? Uh... sure. But..." Bella was once again fraught with a multitude of thoughts vying for her brain's attention.

Supper? Where?

Could he possibly be inviting me to his place? Surely that's not possible.

Would it be polite to invite him to mine? How can I possibly serve him Ramen noodles? I'd rather die!

I'll have to pick up groceries first. But how can I ask him to wait while I cook.

What if he hates my cooking? What if it gives him food poisoning? Oh no!

"Good. I know just the place. You are not opposed to French food, are you?" Carlisle spoke nonchalantly and eased Bella's frantic mind.

Of course, he meant a restaurant. How did I even think he'd want me to go to his place? What's wrong with me?

Bella shook her head to express that she didn't have any qualms about French food. After all, in order to form an opinion she would first have to experience it; Bella had never been to an exclusive French eatery before. She had never been to a Mongolian restaurant either. But she would gladly go to one now in order to follow the man who was nothing short of perfection in her eyes.

Carlisle didn't take his eyes off of her, but lifted his right hand and made a subtle gesture with his fingers to summon something that Bella couldn't see. Like magic, a sleek and elegant car pulled up to the curb like a chariot in waiting.

Carlisle motioned for her to get into the back of the car as Bella noticed that it was not the same car that shuttled her to Forks a few months ago, nor was it the same man driving it. However, the smell inside the car held the same rich aroma of wealth and refinement that she had come to associate with Carlisle Cullen. She found herself rightfully intoxicated by the plush comfort of the car, not to mention the company it provided.

She didn't ask where exactly he was taking her; it hardly mattered. She trusted him implicitly, and would willingly accompany him to the end of the earth if that's where he was taking her.

AN: I'd love your thoughts on Where the Streets Have No Name. (No pressure!)

A huge round of thanks goes to lulabelle98.

Thanks to Detochkina, EBS, and WutheringBites for their kind contributions.

Thanks to opheliasmuse, ms_ambrosia10, and KitsuShel for WC.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for reviewing. Much love.